


Bloom

by visionsoftokyo



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 17:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionsoftokyo/pseuds/visionsoftokyo
Summary: Ryan is a dancer. Brendon is about one step short of being a cool kid. They're both oblivious little shits.





	1. Chapter 1

Ryan Ross was not what one who was familiar with ballet would expect a danseur to look like. Skinny, not obviously muscular, high waist, he looked more like a ballerina. Hayley, his dance partner, teased him about it to no end, but it was all in good fun, of course.

Speaking of Hayley, she was taking an awfully long time to lace up the ribbons on her ballet slippers.

“Here, let me help.”

She smirked. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me to hurry up so we can deal with the twins faster.”

He shuddered. “I hope they break their ankles. I’ve seen some horrible, disruptive kids before, but they really take the cake. The rest of the class is pretty good, though.”

“Hmm. Are you gonna stick around? You’re not really obligated to stay after this year. You’ll be going to college.”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with these kids. You’d turn them all into punks with multi-coloured hair,” he teased.

Hayley looked indignant. “Plus, how would you ever find another partner who you could lift?”

“I’m stronger than I look, I assure you,” he said, moving to pick her up bridal style.

She wriggled out of his grasp before he got her off the floor, running for the doorway. “We need to get you a boyfriend or a teddy bear or something.”

Ryan looked at her inquisitively as they walked to the “waiting area” where all of their students congregated.

“You need someone to unleash all that affection onto.”

“Affection? Me?”

“Oh, how dare I forget! You’re a soulless human being who loves no one and nothing.”

“I’m not Joe.”

“No, no you aren’t. You’re a _cuddler_. You _thrive_ off of physical contact.”

He rolled his eyes as she poked him in the ribs.

“We’re ready for the little ballerinas! And, um, you two,” Hayley announced to the exhausted looking mothers, pulling Tom and Tim (also known as The Terrible Twins) away from the bookcase they’d been trying to knock over.

Eight little girls ran up to them, ranging from bouncing up and down excited to almost in tears at the thought of leaving their mothers. That was one of the only things Ryan disliked about being a student teacher, the little kids didn’t quite have a grip on their emotions yet.

“Miss Hayley! Are we gonna do the next part of our routine today?”

Hayley smiled. “We are!”

Ryan shook his head, smiling softly. They were all so adorable.


	2. Chapter 2

Hayley was bent at an almost ninety degree angle, gripping her foot, which was balanced precariously on the prima barre. She mumbled something about how the arabesque single barre that ran around the perimeter of the room was in need of remounting before straightening out again.

Ryan rolled out his shoulders, before giving the aforementioned equipment a good wiggle. One of the screws dropped out and he winced.

“Probably the modern dance class,” he said, chuckling at their little inside joke.

“Probably. After all, they were the ones who broke the sound system at that recital.”

“What’s this about a broken sound system?”

Ryan jumped. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Brendon laughed. “My mom thought it was necessary for me to learn how to dance. What type of dance, she left up to me.”

“He’s here for the 5:30 hip hop class,” Hayley said, gripping Ryan’s elbow in a calming manner.

“Hayley! Almost didn’t see you there.”

“Hmm. Ry, we should get going. You’re my ride.”

He mumbled something that sounded like agreement, ducking his head as he led her out of the room. Once they were out of the building, Hayley cornered him.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“What? N-no! I just…”

“Okay, you’re madly in love with him then.”

“No, I-”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I… I like him.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, twisting her little finger around Ryan’s and giving a solid shake.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m telling you, Wentz has the hots for you.”

“Shut up and eat your carrots, Ross. He’s been going after Mikey for years.”

“Yeah, but,” Ryan swallowed a half chewed carrot, gesturing at Patrick with his juice box straw. “Mikey’s brother _hates_ Pete, and Mikey would jump off a twenty story building if Gerard told him to. Pete’s giving up with him, and he _requested_ you for this project.”

“Because he knows I give a shit about my grade.”

“Still. And, you’ve gotta admit, he’s hot. Not my type, but he’s hot. You could have worse guys pining after you. He’s pretty nice, too.”

Just then, Patrick’s phone announced he had a text.

“Who’s that?” Andy asked, looking up from his vegan ravioli.

“Pete.”

“Well?”

“He sent me a video. Some Ninja Sex Party song.”

Dallon shot to attention, accidentally elbowing Ian. “Which one?”

Patrick slid his phone down the table. Dallon took one look at the screen and cracked up, cackling hysterically while Ian grumbled.

“FYI I Wanna F Your A! He really does have the sense of humor of a seventh grader!”

Ryan smirked.

“Don’t say it.”

“Fine.”

“I think you should take that as a hint, Pat,” Hayley said.

Patrick banged his head off the table. “I hate all of you.”

“I’m sure you do,” Ryan said dryly as he watched Brendon, Gabe and Pete, who were sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, launching spoonfuls of potatoes at the lunch monitor.

“Your crush is an idiot.”

Sisky looked up from his tomato soup. “Who’s crush?”

“Ry. He’s head-over-heels in love with Brendon Urie,” Hayley said, twisting her hair up into a ponytail.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t say anything.”

“Dude, you like _Brendon_?” Joe asked.

“Great, now the whole school’s gonna know,” Ryan huffed, burying his face in arms.

“Aw, we’re not gonna tell anybody, right, guys?”

“Fuck off, Carden, let me wallow in my misery.”

Mike poked him in the ribs. “Don’t get all emo on us, Ry. We’re just teasin’ you.”

“Better be.”

Hayley muttered something about Midol, and kicked Mike under the table.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop being a dick.”

“I’m not!”

“Can you all shut up? I’m trying to write,” Alexander hissed as Ian leaned over to look at his notebook.

There was a collectively mumbled “Sorry,” and everyone went back to their lunches, having decided that Ryan had received his weekly dose of torture (making the term “tortured artist” a bit more literal).


	4. Chapter 4

Ryan stared blankly at Mr. Young, trying desperately to focus on the requirements for the project and not Brendon.

“Alright, any questions?”

Gabe raised his hand.

“Mister Saporta?”

“Yeah, uh, what are we doing again?”

Mr. Young, who generally seemed more like a student than a teacher, and hardly looked old enough to have been teaching for what would soon be six years, smiled, unperturbed by Gabe’s question. “You’ll be paired up with someone, and you’ll have to work together to write a short play that includes three things from a prompt sheet. Now then, let’s get those pairs assigned! Gabe, you’ll be working with Greta.”

Ryan tuned him out for a bit, wondering if the date for the dance recitals had been assigned yet. Probably not, the season (if one could call it that) had only started a month ago.

“Brendon and Ryan, you’ll be together for this, and Nate, Alex, and Ryland, since we have an odd number in this class, you’ll be a group of three.”

Brendon plunked himself backwards in the desk in front of Ryan’s.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Ryan mumbled, taking a sheet of paper out of his binder.

Mr. Young gave them their prompt sheet, which read as follows: _Peanut butter, violin, George Clooney_

“I have no fucking clue what we’re supposed to do with this, but okay.”

Brendon chewed his pencil. “Maybe… Maybe George Clooney plays the violin, and he gets peanut butter dumped on him?”

Ryan shook his head. “It needs a deeper meaning.”

“It’s a metaphor! For, um, Hollywood.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“So.”

“So what?”

Brendon sighed. “You and Hayley?”

There might have been a bit of sadness in his voice, though Ryan wrote it off as his imagination.

“She’s my partner.”

“Oh.”

Ryan was too busy scribbling on his paper to notice how Brendon’s face fell.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m telling you,” Ryan said, tying the string on his not-quite-sweatpants-but-not-quite-leggings. “He _hates me. He won’t answer my texts about our play, and it’s due in a week! We’re nowhere near done, and if he won’t even answer me to talk about our project-”_

_“Ry, be quiet. He likes you, I know he does.”_

_Ryan huffed, pressing play on the little boombox in the corner. “Doubt it.”_

_***_

_“So, tell me again why it is, exactly, that you can’t ask him out,” Pete asked Brendon from where he sat on Gabe’s bed._

_“Because he has a girlfriend.”_

_“He _does_?” Nate’s eyes were wide, which was a very strange sight because he had very large eyes in the first place._

_“Yeah, Hayley. He told me when we started the project. Speaking of which, give me my phone back, Suarez. He’s probably been trying to get me to help him.”_


	6. Chapter 6

It was beyond cold. It was freezing. The sidewalks hadn’t been shoveled, and Ryan had left his coat in his locker.

“Hey, Ry!”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Brendon running toward him and, because he was Ryan Ross and things just didn’t go well for him, he tripped.

“Dude, you alright?”

Ryan winced, shifting so he was sitting, and took Brendon’s outstretched hand, ignoring the butterflies and pulling himself up, only to drop back to the ground as soon as he put weight on his right foot.

“Fuck!”

“Here, let me look at it,” Brendon said, gently rolling up Ryan’s pant leg.

Ryan shuddered when Brendon touched his ankle, trying to suppress tears.

“I think it’s sprained.”

Brendon nodded. “You’re not walking on that, not anytime soon.”

Ryan shook his head. “Just help me up.”

“Hey, we need to work on our play. I’ll help you home, here.” He hooked one arm under Ryan’s knees, wrapping the other around his shoulders.

Ryan yelped, grabbing onto Brendon’s hoodie. “Put me down.”

“You can’t _walk_.”

“I can hop.”

“Ry, how far away is your house? A mile? Mile and a half? You’re not _hopping_ home.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms. “Just don’t drop me.”

Upon arriving at Ryan’s house, Brendon carried him upstairs.

“Here, I’ll get you some ice.”

“Thanks,” Ryan sighed as Brendon sat him on the bed. He unzipped his bookbag, searching for the most recent draft of their project.

Brendon returned just as Ryan finished setting up to work on the play.

“Here, give me your foot.”

Ryan obliged, watching Brendon wrap the elastic bandage around his ankle.

“I guess this means you’re not gonna be able to dance for a while, huh?”

“I wouldn’t if I wasn’t absolutely certain Hayley would rat me out to the instructor.”

Brendon frowned and wrapped a t-shirt around the baggie of ice. “Must be nice to have someone like her. She’s sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s the best. She actually listens, y’know?”

“Hmm. We should work on,” Brendon gestured to the mess of papers on Ryan’s bed. “That.”


	7. Chapter 7

Ryan blew a strand of hair out of his face. Hayley was supposed to meet him for lunch in the park to celebrate the first full week of spring weather, but she was late.

“Ry? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Brendon. Uh, I was waiting for someone.”

“Oh. Have you seen Pete and Gabe? They were supposed to meet me here.”

“No, I- There they are!”

Brendon turned, glaring at Hayley, Gabe and Pete, who had apparently been hiding in some shrubbery. Hayley was carrying a picnic basket, and Pete had a small speaker that was blaring some obnoxious love song.

“What the fuck?”

Hayley smirked. “Since you’re both really oblivious apparently, we decided we needed to give you a… A little push.”

Brendon looked confused. “What?”

Pete patted his shoulder. “You two are madly in love and apparently too stupid to realize it.”

“Eres un maldito gilipollas, se bueno,” Gabe said, smacking him in the back of the head.

Pete smiled dramatically. “If you just called me an asshole, just know that I feel much the same about you.”

“Okay, wait,” Ryan said, having realized (at least, somewhat) what was going on. “You mean you…”

“Aren’t you two… Dating?” Brendon asked, eyes flicking between Ryan and Hayley.

“No! Oh, no. He’s my dance partner.”

“Yeah, if anything, she’s like a sister! I thought you didn’t like me. After that project you always avoided me.”

A guilty expression came over Brendon. “Like I said, I thought…” He nodded toward Hayley. “I didn’t want my feelings to get in the way.”

Pete, Gabe and Hayley exchanged a _should we leave them alone?_ look.

“Oh. That… That makes sense. Now I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, I am. I should’ve realized…” Brendon trailed off when Ryan took his hand, interlocking their fingers.

“We’re both idiots.”

Brendon gave him a lopsided grin. “Two halves of a whole idiot.”

“Never say that again.”

“Oh, come on! It was funny!”

“Hmm.”

“Ry, I hate to interrupt your little moment here, but we need to go,” Hayley said, staring at her phone in horror.

“What? Why?”

“The recital. Here, take this,” She shoved the picnic basket into Pete’s arms.

“But it’s tomorrow!”

“No it isn’t! They gave us the wrong dates! Come on, we need to get to the school now, do you have your stuff?”

Ryan nodded, picking up his backpack.

“Hey, I can drive you guys,” Gabe offered.

“Gabriel, you’re a saint,” Hayley cheered.

Brendon smirked. “Since my friend is saving your asses, does that mean I have permission to date your best friend?”

“I’ll think about it. Come on, we need to go,” Hayley said, grabbing both Gabe and Ryan's wrists and hauling them off.

Pete was left standing in the middle of the park.


	8. Chapter 8

They landed perfectly, breathing hard as the song finished. Hayley dropped into a perfect curtsey, kicking Ryan slightly when he didn’t immediately bow. When the curtains closed, they bolted offstage, Hayley already yanking her flowy white skirt off, ready to exchange it for the pink tutu that matched the cotton candy colored ones the class they instructed wore.

“We did it!”

“And we did it _well_.”

“Miss Hayley, Miss Hayley! You did so good!”

Hayley smiled. “Thank you, Leah. I bet you’re all gonna do way better, though.”

Leah pouted. “We don’t get to do any cool jumps like you do.”

“Aww, the jumps are hard,” Ryan said. “Just you wait, you’ll be doing them in no time.”

That got Leah to smile again and she hurried back to her mother, who was trying to tie her hair up in a bun.

***

“You guys were amazing,” Brendon said.

Hayley smiled. “Well, I _did_ almost miss that pirouette, but yeah. We were.”

“You guys really didn’t have to come,” Ryan said.

Spencer laughed. “And miss this? No way, man.”

“Yeah, we’re used to the weird looks from concerned parents,” Joe said, picking some lint from his sweater.

Their routines had gone perfectly, even the one with the little kids.

“Hey, I guess that means you have to come to my soccer game, huh,” Brendon said.

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Ryan said, leaning against him. “Shut up, Sisky.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were going to.”

“I’ll say it for him,” The Butcher said. “When's the wedding?”

“Shut up.”

“Aww, he's blushing!”

“I am not. You're all a bunch of assholes.”

Hayley swatted at his arm. “Language. There’re babies here.”

“Sorry.”


	9. Chapter 9

It was not uncommon for various members of Ryan's group to meet under the bleachers. So, it was not surprising, when Patrick had complained about how hot it was out (and about how utterly stupid May Day was), that Hayley had suggested they go sit under the bleachers because it was cool and nobody cared anyway.

They would have stayed under the bleachers, too, if Brendon and Ryan hadn't been making out.

“I think we scared them,” Brendon mumbled, slipping an arm around Ryan's shoulders.

“It certainly seems that way.”

“I can't wait to get out of here. I wanna get out of this town, I wanna sing, I wanna see the world. And I want you with me, dancing or… or whatever you want.”

Ryan smiled, snuggling closer to Brendon. “I'd like that.”

He fiddled with a hole at the hem of his t-shirt before speaking again.

“Bren?”

“Hmm?”

“I-uh, well, I just. I wanted to say that I, um, I lo- well, it-it’s stupid, but, um, I love you.”

Brendon smiled, an overwhelming feeling of fondness washing over him. “I love you too.”


End file.
